Means of Escape
by Kinda.Sorta.Insane
Summary: James is just having a rough week... As is Kendall. Kames.
1. Escape Route

Means of Escape

Some of you may recognize the beginning.

Kendall's Notes

Location: James' Room Palm Woods

Time: Two PM

Reason: Suspicious Behavior

Third Person POV

James Diamond was having a rough afternoon full of soiled carpet, obnoxious noises, scratching, biting, and interrupted sleep. All day he had been cleaning up messes that he didn't make, though they were, admittedly, his own fault. Trying to keep his room at least somewhat quiet, a task made difficult by his tendency to hum randomly. Hope that his skin would clear quickly, and hope feverishly at that. And sleep didn't come easy after waking up every two hours.

Sometimes, he almost wished that he hadn't went out and bought a puppy.

James Diamond's life was quickly becoming difficult. His puppy had been a sweet, cuddling thing on the way back home. Quiet and cute with lots of kisses. Now, three days later, he was a wild bundle of energy. Running all over the place and leaving pee trails when excited; barking with passion at anything that dared to move under his watch; crying and whimpering and growling when he wanted to go somewhere or get something. And, while cute, he just had issues. If left alone, he will cry and bark until someone comes. For some unknown reason, he can't leave James' bedroom and needs carried down stairs, as he is afraid of cars, bikes, and elevators.

And now James' own bladder was against him. He had a puppy sleeping on a squeaky bed and the horrible urge to go to the bathroom. Escape seemed like a difficult and strenuous task. With each move, the bed groaned in protest and James held his breath. Just one _tiny_ noise and puppy will have to go outside. Reasonably, James isn't sure he can last a trip down the stairs and twenty minutes outside. He moves a little more carefully at the thought. The bed makes a awful noise and James freezes, dread marring his features. The puppy's ear flicks and it remains sleeping. He breathes a sigh of relief and gets up from his place on the carpet.

And then he turns to see an amused and smirking Kendall staring at him in the doorway.

* * *

><p>The horrors of 12-week-old puppies. As I have learned this week, they aren't as fun as one who owns one would hope… James' fictional puppy is exactly how mine acts. Right now he's sleeping in my bed, content after playing with cats for an hour. Updates should be one a day until complete... one or two more chapters... hopefully. ^^<p> 


	2. Jealousy

Means of Escape

This story wasn't supposed to be quite so puppy-centric…

* * *

><p>Kendall POV<p>

At first, I thought James getting a dog was a good thing. But that was when he said he wanted a dog. You know, potty trained, not too nippy, good at sleeping… A dog. But then he decided that he wanted to train it. After coming to the conclusion that that particular thing would be hard to do with a full-grown dog, he decided to get a puppy. Still not too bad for me. I thought that puppies sleep, that they play. Of course, I wasn't stupid enough to think that time and effort wasn't required. But, you know, I thought that I'd still get to see him and talk to him.

I was wrong though.

James must have picked the neediest one there. He cries _all night _and has to go outside _all the time_. So far, all this has meant for me is a worn-out and busy James who barely has enough time to eat, let alone spend time with me. Or do his hair… I guess that's a plus. While James does the whole pretty boy thing very well, he does the natural look even better.

And when I went to see if the puppy was sleeping so that we could hang out, I hadn't expected this particular benefit.

James, clad only in boxers and a tight t-shirt, was making a very strong effort to get out of bed without waking the dog. He had one foot about an inch away from the floor and the other leg bent at a strange angle to prevent him from falling off the bed altogether. He had a white-knuckled grip on his headboard and his shirt was riding up his stomach. And, while I had seen it before, that didn't make it any less of an appealing sight.

When he finally managed to escape from the clutches of his bed, I was there. Smirking and ready to comment on his (lack of) clothes and odd behavior. And he knew that. As he stood there in his rumpled clothes in front of me, I had the urge to forego the teasing and instead get in some much-needed _us_ time.

After he went to the bathroom, we stood outside of his room with the door shut. Him leaning against the wall, and me him. We hadn't kissed, yet, and we talked with soft voices. I got him up to date with the life outside of his room and he explained in excited whispers how much progress his dog was making. When there were no more words left to speak, I leaned to kiss him.

All too soon, though, there was a soft rustle of blankets in the room and we froze. After a second of no noise, I figured it was all right. Wrong again. Just as our lips were about to touch, a series of barks and whimpers erupted from behind his door. I sighed and James gave me a smile and a fleeting brush of lips before he hurried to get the puppy and take it outside before it used his bed as a toilet.

As James walked passed me, the puppy turned slightly and licked him right on the mouth.

* * *

><p>It turned out to be a two-shot after all…<p> 


End file.
